


Spider-Man can (but Peter Parker can't and that's okay)

by HideHereWithMe



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brief Tony stark - Freeform, Creepy guy, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Platonic Relationships, Precious Peter Parker, Scared Peter Parker, Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, Wade Wilson doesnt like predators, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, Wade Wilson is a Good Friend, Wade Wilson is about to beat some ones ass, fuck em, no beta we die like men, no cap, platonic, seriously how do you tag, we dont like people who go after kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HideHereWithMe/pseuds/HideHereWithMe
Summary: This was definitely not now Peter wanted to spend his day, absolutely the fuck not. He ducked to his left, picking up the pace in the closed alleyway. He wanted to go home, do his homework, call Ned to see if he was still up for meeting him, if not, patrol. But no, why would god leave him alone? Why would he give Peter one day of god damn peace? No, instead it decided that Peter  needed  a fucking creep. A stalker. A really creepy unnerving stalker. Peter did NOT like how this man looked at him.orA man keeps following Peter around and as the teen tries to lose the guy he somehow end up in a bar we all know too well and ends up making some unexpected friends(also teen audience because of the swearing)
Relationships: Jack Hammer & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 216





	Spider-Man can (but Peter Parker can't and that's okay)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hallo, hello there, so this is my first time here, feel free to give your opinions in the comments and if you have any advice as to how I would be able to improve my writing please do leave them in the comments. Also do not expect much from  
> this Deadpool because i absolutely have no idea how to write this man.Other than that enjoy!

This was definitely not now Peter wanted to spend his day, absolutely the fuck not. He ducked to his left, picking up the pace in the closed alleyway. He wanted to go home, do his homework, call Ned to see if he was still up for meeting him, if not, patrol. But no, why would god leave him alone? Why would he give Peter one day of god damn peace? No, instead it decided that Peter needed a fucking creep. A stalker. A really creepy unnerving stalker. Peter did NOT like how this man looked at him.

He could hear a shuffle behind him and the heavy steps getting faster. Nope, nope, nope. He was not getting caught in this small ass alleyway with Mr.I-Am-Going-To-Steal-Your-Kidneys. 

He took a sharp turn to the right, which he hoped would lead him to a street, and fucking booked it. 

He noticed the guy a few days ago, two to be exact, but Peter is sure the guy had been watching him for way longer, because he seemed to move in Peter’s direction before even Peter himself made the decision. Knew the streets Peter took and even knew to stop for a few minutes at a small café that he liked. Peter knew that he should tell somebody, somebody who could help, like May or Tony or a cop or even Ned and MJ for fucks sake! But he didn’t, which may be one of his biggest mistakes he made in his life, he definitely hoped that it wasn’t the worst, because he didn’t want to die. Peter didn’t see the guy make a move, like the generic stalker and decided that the man probably didn’t have the guts to do it. He was Spider-Man, he could take being watched by a weird creepy guy, after all if he ever did a move he would be able to easily overpower him, right? Wrong. Peter is currently running like a mad dog because Mr. Imma-steal-your-kidneys did make a move and Peter? He froze.

\------------

He was talking to Ned about meeting up today, outside the school gate, when he felt somebody tap his shoulder. He turned expecting it to be a another student or teacher, what he did not expect was coming face-to-face with his personal stalker. The man grinned at him, the low buzzing at the back of his head spiking _dangerdangerdangerdangerdangerda –_

“—ete? Pete?” He was able to breathe again, so he turned to Ned who was calling out to him. “Are you okay?” Ned was slightly frowning and his eyes were laced with worry. _Don’t involve him into this_ , the voice at the back of his head said and he agreed. 

“Ned-yeah- uh- I’ll see you- no – I’ll call you later okay?” He tapped his phone and gave him a look, he hoped Ned would get it, cause he did not want to outright reject him right now and seem like a jerk, just to catch a creepy guy. 

Ned’s eyes widened for a split second. “Uh yeah, I’ll call you later..” And with a small wave he left. 

So with Ned out of the way he turned to Stranger-Danger man, who was still grinning at him like crazy and if that didn’t make his pulse/ heart pick up he might as well jump off the highest skyscraper. _Okay Peter, calm down, it’s just one guy, who has a weird obsession with you and has probably stalked you for the past week and knows where you live and knows where your friends live and is looking for a chance to gut which is right now or maybe something even worse-_ “Can I help you?” Peter tried to maintain his composure, keep a smile on his face, but he couldn’t stop his habit of fidgeting with his hands. The guy laughed.

“Yeah actually, this Midtown School of Science and Technology?” I just moved here with my family and I’m still not used to it, I’m here to pick up my daughter.” _Bullshit._ Somebody bumped into the man, sending him tumbling into Peter. _That felt so wrong._

“Yeah, it is.— _Peter needs to fucking leave right now_ —so I’m just gonna go-“ With the strength he managed to recover from when the man was rambling, he side stepped him and was ready to go on his merry way. His hair stood up, as a steady grip on his arm kept him from going any further.

“Actually. would you be able to guide me? Please? I won’t take too much of your time. Hmm?” The hand which gripped his arm, slid down , caressing it, the man eyeing him up and down. _No. This is not happening._ Peter couldn’t stand it anymore and he ripped himself from the grip. 

“I-I have to go.” He stammered before turning sharply, leaving the man behind. As he got further away, through the crowd of ramblings and different conversations, he heard one last annoyed click of the tongue. “Tsk” With a shuffle, the heavy step started to follow him like an echo. 

\--------

And that is story of how Peter found himself going from alleyway to alleyway, trying to lose Mr. Creepy, however somehow, the guy never lost him, taking the same turns as he did, even if he was behind Peter by like 3 moves. Peter didn’t want to know how, because he was sure the guy would reply something like his scent or some bullshit and he definitely didn’t want to hear that.

Even lost in thought, his body kept running in the right direction and he was thankful for that. Ever since the guy caressed his arm he wanted to crawl out of his skin and hide in a hole, just the thought of it made him shiver. As he hoped, he came upon a street, it wasn’t big and it wasn’t busy, but at least the asshole wouldn’t try something here. Now the question was where to go? He was glad for his stamina, but because he was lost in thought, reminiscing the disgusting encounter, he ran so far that even he doesn’t recognize the place anymore. 

Peter could still hear his footsteps, it was faint, but it was still there and the guy seemed to be heading for him. _How the fuck does he know where I am, I ran through literally like twelve different alleys even jumped a fucking wall, how the fuCK DOES HE- okay, okay, chill, calm down and think, fucking calm down Peter you’re fucking Spider-Man, you can dodge bullets and can stop a train with your bare hands and legs. You bust drug rings with Daredevil and you can web up mugger in two seconds, what’s another—_ the pace picked up and the man started running _\- fuck shit shit c’mon you dumbass MOVE._ So he did and went into the first place he saw open without a second thought. 

His nose was assaulted by a downright revolting smell. _Alcohol, vomit,sweat, blood and he could swear there was a dead body rotting somewhere in this room_. It wasn’t light smell, no, it reeked. It was so strong that Peter had to close his eyes and take a step back. _Just my fucking luck. A bar. And a shitty one._ But he couldn’t back down now. He was sure that if he walked out, back on the street that he would be greeted with a grin by the man. _Okay, courage, it’s just a bar._ After steadying himself he went further in until he was able to see the bartender and the whole room altogether. That meant that everybody in this room could also see him.

“Kid I think you got the wrong place. Turn around and leave.” His head followed the voice, stopping on the bartender, who looked as if he saw better days. 

He couldn’t help but notice the man who was sitting nonchalantly on a stool, with a glass in his hands. After all it would be impossible not to spot him, as he was clad in red and black leather from head to toe, not to mention the swords that were stripped on his back and the guns hanging from his hips. _Bad bar, bad bar, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-_ Peter snapped out of it, regaining his voice.

“Uhm, im sorry, I know im not supposed to be here−” Mr. Bartender cut him off. 

“Exactly, so how about you turn around and leave? Hmm? It sound like a good idea to me.” 

“Listen if you could just− “ 

“Im not giving you anything to drink, fuck off before I throw you out myself. I. Don’t. Serve. Kids.” His whole demeanor changed. He knew it was bad news, but you know what was also bad news? Yeah, _the guy following him who was ready to get real touchy with him_. So Peter had to try.

“I don’t want anything to drink or to get high, I− “ 

The bartender sighed. “We don’t take requests from minors” 

_Oh my fucking god, can he SPEAK WITHOUT GETTING-_ the whole room was looking at him, including the lad clad in leather. Fuck.

“I said that out loud didn’t I?” The man who he had directed those words at just looked at him. 

“Well?” 

_**Courage** _

“So.. as I said, I don’t want to drink , I don’t want to get high and I don’t want one of those—he waved his arms around—requests or something, none of that, I just want….” 

Mr. Bartender raised an eyebrow expectantly “You just want what?” 

And this is when Peter realized how quiet the room had got and gosh fucking darn it, this was embarrassing. Spider-Man, famous vigilante, who could scale buildings, throw cars and could punch you into tomorrow, was now asking a random guy to help him regarding a possible pedophile- _but no, it wasn’t Spider-Man_ who was stalked for a week and _it wasn’t Spider-Man_ who had to run away from a creepy guy. No it wasn’t him, it was _Peter Parker_ , a sixteen year old kid. Maybe Spider-Man could have dealt with the bitch already, but Peter couldn’t and maybe that was okay. And like a dam breaking all of his frustration and emotions _spilled out−_

“ I just want this guy to stop following _me!_ ”

_“What?”_ the voice was icy cold and neither did it belong to the bartender, however Peter didn’t notice. 

“He just keeps on following on me and watching me and looking at me like- like- _like im fresh meat and I cant do this I cannot stand it anymore, ive endured this for three days, ive had to change my clothes after leaving school in shitty public bathrooms just to be able to slip away and I cannot go home directly anymore without fucking worrying that he will jump me or slip into my room at night! I cant, no more, please, not after today, not after he fucking touched me with his disgusting fucking hands—“_  
Peter had unknowingly backed away, so much so, that he was against the wall. He brought his hands up to his face and slid down the wall into a crouch, backpack and all. His face felt wet, he realized that they were tears, _when did he start crying?_ He didn’t care, what he wanted right was some peace and a bed. He just wanted to fucking sleep without having to worry that something would happen to him or to aunt May or Ned or M—

_**Step step step** _

—Peter’s whole body tensed—

_**step step** _

—no fuckingway—

_**step step step step step step** _

—and after what seemed like an eternity the steps came to a full stop and a ragged breath could be heard just outside the door. 

His head snapped up, eyes filled with panic frantically looking around the room for somewhere-somewhere-somewhere to hide. Fear starting to settle in. His chest rising up and down,up,down,up, _downupdownupdown **updownupdownupdown** shit he was hyperventilating. He cant do this, nope nope nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope maybe if he just shut his eyes it would go away,yeah, maybe maybe just maybe_

“Kid.” The voice was hoarse and calm. “Calm down, okay? C’mon big breaths.” Peter tried, but it just wouldn’t work _his body didn’t do what he wanted to do he couldn’t−_

“Count with me then. Do you think you could do that? From ten to one.” 

He nodded or at least attempted to. 

“Ten” the voice said. 

“T-“ But his own voice caught up in his throat. 

“Its okay we’ll just try again. Ten”

_**Breath in**_

“T-ten”

“Good. Nine” the voice said one more and Peter followed. 

“n-nine” 

“Eight” 

“e-eig- eight” 

“Seven” 

“s-sev-en” 

“Yup, six” 

“s-ix” 

“You’re doing great. Five” 

“F-five” 

“Four” 

“Four” 

“Three” 

“Three” 

“Two”

“two” 

“One” 

“One” and he could breathe again. He was sure that his heart had already leaped out off his chest by now. 

“Now can you please look at me?” 

With one more breath he looked up and slowly opened his eyes, coming face-to-face with a masked face. It was red and the area around his eyes was black, except for where the man’s eyes were supposed to be, there was white fabric which resembled the sclera. Strangely, he wasn’t all that scared. 

“Thank you, my name is Wade. Could can you tell me what’s going on?” 

Peter wanted to turn his head towards the doors, but he couldn’t do it. 

“He-“ Peter started.

“He?” 

The taste in his mouth was unpleasing. He tried to swallow but even that was hard. He closed his eyes a little bit again, before looking straight at the masked man. “He is outside the door.”

Silence.

“Can I help you up?” 

Peter stared at him a bit, not understanding the point of the question, until he remembered that this is exactly what he did, when he beat some rapist and went to help the person with a _“Can I touch you?”_. So he nodded and he felt a pressure around his arm and then around his back. This time it didn’t feel disgusting, no, rather it felt comforting. He let himself be led towards the bar area. 

“Do you want to sit on a stool or go behind the counter?”

Peter thought about it for a second. Maybe he could confront the man, tell him to fuck off, to leave him alone, that’s what he would usually do or want to do, however this time he didn’t want to, he just wanted to hide and if he could.. 

“Behind.” That was the only thing he could squeak out, but apparently that was enough. 

The guy…Wade raised the ledge which separated the bar area from the sitting area and with a gesture invited him in. As he moved behind the counter, only now aware that the air in the room had changed drastically, there was no more laughter or loud noises, instead tension hung in the air. Once more he slipped to the floor, closing his eyes. 

“Hi, I’m Weasel.” 

Peter peeled one eye open to see that it was Mr. Bartender or Weasel as of now. Weasel was crouching, smiling at him, a little bit crooked but it was there. He rearranged himself, so he sat better and offered his own tired smile. 

“Peter. My name’s Peter.” 

“Nice to meetcha’ Peter.” 

“Yeah.” He felt the pressure leave his body, relaxing , but his sweet time was short lived as the door wretched open and in come his nightmare. The tension that dissipated from his body earlier came back with the same force, if not stronger, keeping him frozen into place on the wooden floor. 

Weasel shoot up, hand going under the counter to stop on top of a gun. 

“Hi there folks.”

And that heavy feeling in his chest was back, pressing into him and ready to choke him. 

“Not meaning to intrude or anything but have you seen a kid, 5’7, a mop of brown curls on his head and doe eyes? He probably had a navy colored backpack and was wearing a stupid t-shirt with a zip up hoodie.” 

Peter would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to throw up right and there as he heard the man describe him. 

“No. We haven’t.” The deep voice from before which seemed soothing was now cold and it almost seemed like he spat out that answer. 

“Are you sure?” 

**“Yes.”**

Then, silence, filled seconds later by a sigh. “C’mon Peter, we don’t want your dear _Aunt May_ to worry do we?”

He swore his heart skipped a beat. 

_No. Nonononono. No._

It seemed that Weasel anticipated that Peter was gonna sit up, but Peter just dodged him, now up on his feet, staring straight at man who has been haunting him. 

“What?” His voice was small. _He felt small._

The man grinned showing his repulsive smile again. “That’s right--the man continued-- its been an hours since you were supposed to be home, don’t you think that she is worried? Should I call her?” 

His heart stopped.

_“No!”_ The word ripped itself from Peter throat. 

“No?” The man’s tone was sickly sweet, enough to feel as if your teeth will start to rot. “Then how about we go home?” The word home being accentuated.

“I..dont want to..” 

“Hmm? You said something?”

Peter didn’t want to, but he had to. If not what about May, what if the man did something to her, what if, what if− So Peter had to move. He clumsily turned around, ducking under the ledge, ready to go with the man.

 _I don’t want to I don’t wa **nt to I don’t want to idontwanttoIDONTWANTOT**_

He was stopped from going any further by an arm, one dressed in red leather. 

“He doesn’t want to.” The tone was harsh and strong, it wasn’t directed to him, but towards the man. 

“What?” The guy almost sounded offended. “He said— _something glinted in the light_ —that he doesn’t want to.” That was a gun. Something struck across the man’s face and Peter recognized it as fear. ‘

“Okay big guy, put the gun down, im just here to take the kid back to his aunt.”

In answer to that Peter could swear he heard a growl emanating from the unmoving body which stood between him and the monster of a man. 

“And he said that he doesn’t want to go? Is it that fucking hard? Are you fucking deaf? And it didn’t sound like you wanted to take him back to his aunt.” 

The guys eyes darted between the door and his savior, not even a split second later there was a gunshot and a hole just beside the guys head in the wall. 

“You are not going anywhere.” 

“Okay,um, _please listen—_ “ 

“No I wont.” Wade said and the guys face paled even further. 

“You didn’t listen him. Not even to one word, you fucking bastard.” Wade started to move, but his target didn’t. “No, you’re gonna listen to me, you ugly motherfucker, I hate pieces of shit like you the most.” By now Wade and the guy were apart by barely two feet, enough to push the guy with end of the gun all the way back to the wall. 

“Stand still.” 

Confusion flicked through the guys eyes, followed with an agonizing groan as Wade’s knee made contact with his crotch, hard. The stalker’s head hit the wall as he was grabbed by the throat, now clawing at the hand holding him there. Wade leaned in, gun remaining and hand unmoving. 

“Now as much as I would love to fuck up right now and by that I mean, beat the leaving shit out of you, followed by shooting out your fucking joints, then cutting you apart and pulling your guts out, im gonna have to leave you to two other guys who I am sure will have no problem with fucking you up nicely, hey maybe you’ll even get out alive and if you do and you decide to even look in his direction I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your head, mark my words. That stands for other kids and people too, look at them wrong and I will fucking kill you, no hesitation. Don’t try anything funny cause I will fucking know. You can try to run, sure, but I am telling you its not fun having Deadpool on your trail. I speak from experience cause im the one who holds that name and have ended every poor fucker who decided that they were above the consequences. Do you fucking understand, you mutt?” The words were whispered— _probably because he didn’t want Peter to hear them and hey that’s kinda sweet_ —but they held the same power.

The man who looked ready to faint nodded, barely nodded. 

“Good. Now Buck? Mark? Would you mind doing the honors?” 

Two men sat up on cue and made their way towards the guy. “No problem” “My pleasure”. 

One grabbed the guy by the arm and the other by the neck, dragging his body across the floor towards the back. But Peter still had one burning question and somehow he found his voice. 

_“Wait!”_ Peter wholeheartedly expected them to ignore him, however to his surprise they stopped and looked at him. “How... how did you keep finding me?” 

The air seemed to grow thicker.

“I took so many turns, ran across half city and even jumped walls, you could have been miles behind me but somehow you still managed to find me. How?”

‘Mark’ decided to release the man’s neck instead settling by fisting the front of his shirt shaking him. “Answer him”.

A cough and then: “When that kid bumped into us..” 

“What?” 

“When that kid bumped into us I slipped my phone in your pocket and tracked you using another one. That’s..that’s how.”

And true to his words, Peter took a phone out of his left pocket, in the frenzy he was in he must’ve not noticed. He barely got a second to inspect it before it was snatched from hands destroyed right before his eyes by none other than Wade.

“Fuck off now, before I really do decide to kill you with my bare hands.” And with that they disappeared through the back. The heavy feeling was gone and he could finally breathe normally. He could finally allow himself to feel truly tired, as he slumped against one of the stools. Before he could stop it laughter bubbled out from his chest and next think you know he was crying again. Not crying from worry or panic or fear, no, they were tears of relief. 

“Hey hey hey don’t cry,shit munchkins, please don’t cry I really don’t know how to deal with kids _-Peter snorted-_ I really don’t and I promise you that fucker is never gonna bother you again and if he does I’ll take care of him.” 

There was such a big contrast from when Wade spoke to the guy earlier and how he spoke to him. Peter tried to stop crying he really tried, wiping the tears and the snot away with his dirty hoodie, yeah see, really hard.

“Oh don’t do that, for fucks sake Weas’ give the kid some fucking tissues or are you just gonna stand there as if you’re watching some shitty melodrama?” 

“Shut the fuck up im trying to find them.” 

“Well hurry the fuck up.” As if on cue said man in question pulled out a whole tissue and slammed it on the counter. 

“There you go, a whole box of tissues just for you, Peter, for the cock looking bitch beside you I’ve got none.” 

“Fuck you too.”

As Peter watched the men bicker a few more tears slipped. They didn’t go unnoticed.

“Look you made him cry, you rat!” 

“ _Me?_. Have you finally gone completely crazy? Who’s the motherfucker who is strapped with weapons from head to toe ?” Weasel sounded completely offended and Peter laughed once again before he decided to intervene. 

“No no, its just …im just so happy. Oh my fucking god that fucker is gone! Yes! Thank you, thank you so much, my god bless you! I could kiss you right now, but I wont, like no offense but you know.” 

“Don’t sweat it kid. Now how about you hop on this stool like a big boy and wipe your snot with something that isn’t your hoodie and Mr. Rat here will prepare you a soda?” 

Peter smiled at him. 

“Yeah I think I’ll do that.”

It took a few minutes to calm down, but hey, nobody seemed to mind. Once he was sure he could speak properly, he turned to the man beside him and introduced himself. An actual introduction. 

“So hi, my name’s Peter and I’m a highschooler. I’m sorry for busting in your bar and screaming at you, hyperventilating on the floor and then hiding behind your counter. I know you’ll say that it isn’t a problem, but I just can’t help it, so you’re gonna have to deal with me and my sorry, otherwise sarcastic, ass.” The man seemed to smile under the mask.

“Well then Peter the names Wade Wilson and I’m a mercenary for hire-shit probably shouldn’t have said that but you would have found sooner or later. Question, are you hungry? Second question? Are you up for Mexican food and pizza? The answer to that is gonna be yes regardless. Third, you know how to play cards?” 

Peter just grinned.

\------------------

“How the fuck are you so good at Poker?! You’re like twelve, looking like the fourth new member of Alvin and the chipmunks’, the fuck! FUCK THIS!” Deadpool threw the cards on the table one hitting Jeremy in the eyes.

“Now, now Wade don’t be a sore loser” Pete said sweetly, as he hogged the stacks of cash and sodas.

The white eyes narrowed on him “How do you do it”.

To that Peter gave him the simplest answer he had. “Math.”

Apparently that was enough to leave Wade gob smacked. “Math. MATH. ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME I LOST TO MATH I EVEN FUCKING CHEATED WENT THE WHOLE WAY AND YOU BEAT ME WITH FUCKING MATH!?”

He smiled innocently “Yes.”

Wade jumped back as if he was burned by fire “My god what have I raised, a monster. You dare raise a hand against me???”

Peter just shrugged “You wanted to play” the lad in red scoffed at that “YoU wAnTeD tO pLAy, yeah fuck you too” He just laughed in response. “fuck it, we are playing go fish, there is no way you can beat me with your stupid math there”

\----------------

“HOW HOW HOW IN THE FUCK DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE, DON’T SAY IT DOES CAUSE I SWEAR ON MY LEFT BIG TOE I AM GOING TO FLING YOU INTO THE SKY SOMEHOW”

By now hours have passed since the incident and now Peter had three new friends, Weasel, Wade and Jeremy, also way more cash than he had before. He also got rid of one of his worries.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The door to the bar slammed open and in comes in a frantic looking Tony Stark. 

Weasel barely had the time to whisper “holy shit”. 

“Peter? PETE? Ned called!”

“Mr.Stark! Shit sorry guys gotta run” He hastly shoved the money and sodas in the backpack and threw it on his back. He offered one last smile to them and ran off. “Ill text you!” And with that he took Tony by the arm and disappeared.

Weasel was the first to break the silence. “Am I high or did I just see Peter fling himself into Tony Stark ?”  
_The end._


End file.
